


Sweetcheeks

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, Domming? They kind of share that really..., Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, Light Spanking, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Piano Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Rimming, Smut, and for the picky ones: louis fingers/rims harry and harry blows louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 12:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5047687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is in what Harry likes to call <i>that mood</i>. Desperate for more and bossy as hell--but all over Harry regardless, putting his pleasure first... And Harry’s all over the piano, for the time being. (<i>Spanking, rimming, a blowjob and light D/s play with versatile domming that involves a bit of orgasm delay.</i>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweetcheeks

“Bend over the piano,” Louis tells him, running his fingers down his back.

Harry shivers, _of course_ he shivers, he’s naked in their living room with Louis’ hot gaze raking over him.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, walking over to the instrument. It is the centerpiece of the room, a lovely black and shiny grand piano that they really use too little.

 _Well_.

He goes to close the lid over the keys but Louis says, “Stop,” and, “want you to try not to make a mess of it, yeah?”

His breath is hot on Harry’s back when he takes his hands, has them lean on the wood ledge next to the tablature holder. “Stay like this.”

Harry half expects Louis’ fingers to touch his hole, not the gentleness of his mouth as he presses kisses down Harry’s back. It is contrary to Louis’ mood at the moment, the pushy and sexy kind that has Harry hard and leaking already, even before Louis has done anything really.

“Fuck me,” Harry whimpers, because he wants _more_ than these whispers of touches. He can see the precome gather at the tip of his cock, and, “ _Anything_ , Lou, just, fucking _touch_ me.”

Louis moves away again, slapping Harry’s bum with his hand, the sound reverberating through the room. The second slap comes not much later, and the third lands near his thigh, a sharp and stinging pain that makes Harry’s dick twitch.

Louis keeps going until Harry can’t distinguish between one touch and the second, when he seems to notice that Harry doesn’t flinch as much. Then Louis presses himself up against Harry’s back, the bulge of his erection pressing against Harry’s thigh; the material of his jeans coarse and painful against his sensitive skin.

Louis takes his time sucking a love bite on his neck, his fingers trailing through the trimmed hairs that lead down to Harry’s erection, teasing him until they’re not, until Louis kneads Harry’s bum in his hands.

He hears the thud when Louis sinks down onto his knees; shivers at Louis’ fingers stroking up and down the insides of his thighs.

And Louis is, _is_ in that mood.

He pushes his face right into the crease of Harry’s bum, like he can’t get enough of him, and Harry moans as his knees buckle when Louis spreads his cheeks and digs his tongue in right away.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he groans, resting his head on his arms, the wood of the piano digging into his skin.

Louis snorts, the cheeky bugger, but Harry doesn’t even care as long as he gets _more_.

He tries to reach back to reach for Louis’ hair, finds his arm slapped away and then Louis is pushing his finger in alongside his tongue. Harry cusses again and slams his hand down on the keys, producing a loud off tune sound.

Louis finds his prostate easily, adding spit so he can slip in a second finger.

“Bloody hell, Louis,” Harry whimpers, and Louis gently slaps against the skin again.

“You love it,” he mutters and it’s true, Harry does love it, but Louis is pressing his fingers against his prostate insistently and Harry’s close to coming.

“We’ve to move,” he groans, “the piano.”

“You can’t come yet, love,” Louis tells him, and then he’s licking at Harry’s hole again, more sensitive now it stretches around Louis’ fingers.

It’s difficult to keep himself from coming. His body hurtling towards climax already, Louis’ scruff roughs up his skin even more. Harry’s eyes prickle from the sweat dripping into them; his hair sticks to the skin of his forearm as he tries to keep breathing, taking his focus off Louis’ hands, his mouth, how he’s trying very hard to make Harry come right now with the teasing touches to his prostate—

“God,” he mutters, biting down on his arm and bringing his other hand down on the keys again. The noise does little to distract him, but it must shake up Louis because his tongue is gone.

Harry’s currently really not sure if he’s happy about that.

All Louis tells him, before returning to lick at Harry’s hole, is—“Make sure you don’t come on the piano.”

And Harry’s shaking apart at the seams, his knees trembling as he tries to stay upright, tries to not collapse forward and onto the instrument because he is sure Louis won’t follow through with the implied promise that he’ll make Harry come if he’s good.

Instead he groans, forces himself to move the hand he’s been pushing down keys with to support himself up, up and away and curled around the tip of his cock because Louis said nothing about helping along.

This is fine though, because Louis just hums as he strokes the fingers of his free hand along Harry’s arm, down to his wrist to make sure Harry’s not doing anything he shouldn’t be.

It just turns him on more, just like Louis pulling his mouth away from his hole to rub his chin against Harry’s sensitive skin does.

The moment he adds a third finger, stretching him wide and pushing down on his prostate constantly rather than just now and then, massaging—

And then he’s spilling into his hand, moaning loudly as he pushes his hips back, trying to get more of Louis’ fingers.

It’s good, so _good_ even if he always feels like it’s not enough, like he’s not getting enough of Louis’ body when it’s just his fingers and mouth, when he’s got his own hand filled with cum that dribbles down through the creases between his fingers and threatens to fall down on the keys regardless.

Harry’s still hazy, a corner of his mind worrying about what to do with his full hand when Louis takes his wrist and eases his hand away from his cock.

Louis’ fingers swipe away the remnants from the head, before he tugs at Harry’s wrist and unfolds his fingers, licking his skin clean.

“Good?” he hums, sounding pleased and almost smug with it because he knows Harry enjoyed that.

“Yeah babe,” Harry groans. “So good, fuck. _So_ good.”

“Glad you thought so,” Louis chuckles, getting up and making the little sound he _always_ makes when he stretches his body with a hard-on.

Harry whimpers at the way his back twinges when he straightens it out.

Louis is already nuzzling his face against his neck, his erection obvious where it presses through his trousers and against Harry’s thigh.

“What do you want, baby?” Harry murmurs, wrapping his arm around Louis and pulling him close. Louis just hums, kissing his neck. “Want me to get you off?”

Louis nods, rubbing his still-clothed cock against Harry’s thigh again.

“No, love,” Harry smiles. “Undress for me first?”

“Ugh,” Louis groans, but he listens to Harry regardless, easily stripping down his trousers and pulling off his shirt.

Harry indulges for a bit, hugging their naked bodies close and cupping Louis’ magnificent bum with both hands. He’d love to take his boy upstairs, fuck him until he’s speechless, but—not tonight.

“Sit down at the piano,” he instructs Louis. “No, shove the bench back a little, give me some space to work with, baby.”

Louis lifts an eyebrow but he doesn’t say a thing when Harry frowns because he’s not going to fit in. In the end he does it for Louis, turning the bench sideways and kneeling between his legs.

“Play some piano for me, yeah?” he mumbles up at Louis, who nods.

His right hand reaches for the keys to play a dainty little melody, possibly something he’s making up right now or something he hasn’t let Harry listen to yet, while his left hand sinks into Harry’s hair.

Harry starts out slow, kissing the insides of Louis’ thighs until he hears the first bum note, a mishap that makes him stop for a moment so he can smile into his boyfriend’s soft skin. Still avoiding Louis’ erection, he bites down and sucks gently, making Louis’ fingers slip again and groan softly—enough of an incentive for Harry to withhold him from his touch again, however briefly.

“Keep playing,” he mumbles, blowing air over the head of Louis’ cock without touching yet, instead choosing to rub at the thighs spread for him with his hands. His own bum is still a bit sore when Harry leans back far enough to sit on his heels but it’s alright, it’s worth it to watch Louis play the piano, the way he’s torn between watching his own fingers and Harry’s face.

Their eyes lock, and Harry chooses that moment to grab the base of Louis’ cock, his eyes flickering shut for a moment before they’re wide open, still playing the piano. Harry swallows him down, and this time Louis does make a mistake again, groaning loud—and again louder when Harry pulls off again. This time he stops his piano playing.

“Want you to keep playing,” Harry sits up a little straighter as he tells Louis. “No mistakes, yeah? Focus on the piano.”

A full-bodied shiver runs through Louis and he looks like he’d like to curse, possibly at Harry, but instead he bits down on his lip, eyes flickering to his own hand again to pick up the playing again.

Harry leans back down, taking the head of Louis’ cock into his mouth. He can taste bitter precome flood from the tip the moment he starts to suck a little, Louis’ hand tightening in his hair and his playing slowing down a little. Harry hums and squeezes at Louis’ hip, to let him know how good he is right now, that he’s doing great.

When Louis doesn’t mess up after a bit, Harry sinks down further. He lets Louis’ erection fill his mouth, breathing through his nose as he lets go of it from his fingers so he can grab Louis’ bum with both hands.

Louis moans again, his playing slowing even further, and Harry hates that he has to do this but—

After pulling off, he tells Louis, “Play faster, yeah?”

Louis pulls his hand off the piano and whines in the back of his throat, looking down at Harry desperately. There’s a flush running from his cheeks down to his chest and he’s heaving in breaths, his cock leaking between his legs even now Harry’s not touching him. “You’re being horrible now,” he finally complains, still not playing.

“I could have you play Flight of the Bumblebee,” Harry mumbles, nosing at Louis’ skin again. “Or I could have you take a shower and watch that you don’t get off. It’s your choice, sweetcheeks,” squeezing Louis’ bum for extra emphasis. (Or maybe he does that just because it makes Louis moan again and Harry loves the feel of it I his hands).

“You’re a menace,” Louis tells him, but he starts playing again anyway. It’s something Harry doesn’t recognise once more and he spends some time kissing Louis’ thighs again because he wants to know what it is and—

and it makes Louis more desperate for more, shifting forward on the bench. Harry indulges him this time, and when he’s got Louis’ cock back in his mouth, Louis starts to move his hips a little, trying to buck up from the bench and into Harry’s mouth.

Harry reaches for the hand Louis has in his hair and puts his own hand on top, Louis turning his palm up to entwine their fingers.

He’s squeezing hard, his breath has gone erratic now, and Harry knows that he’s about to come.

He braces himself for the flood in his mouth while Louis moans loudly and slams both of his hands down on the bench. Harry lets him, lets Louis fuck his mouth while he holds back his hair with one hand and strokes up and down Louis’ back with the other. He swallows away the come, some of it escaping and dripping down his chin—but that’s fine, honestly, it just has his blood running a little hotter.

Then again, this is really only foreplay.

When Louis finally sits back down and Harry’s swallowed all come, he smirks up at Louis.

“Good enough for you, babe?”

Louis snorts. “I thought you’d have me play Flight of the Bumblebee for real.”

Harry laughs with him, sitting back so Louis can see his semi—just from giving him a blowjob, and still a bit too sensitive for now.

“Let’s shower yeah?”

“Sure, love,” Louis tells him, and with laughter in his voice. “Bumbee, chasing me arse.”

“I’ll have you buzzing in no time,” Harry smirks, and Louis laughs properly at that. “Shower, now.”

“I’m going,” Louis promises, grabbing Harry’s hand and pulling him up. “Just come join me, love.”

“Yeah, always.”

[end]


End file.
